


5 Times Jack Failed at Flirting

by Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5 Times, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Awkward Flirting, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22503853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortheloveofcamelot/pseuds/Leahelisabeth
Summary: And 1 Time it Didn't MatterJack is new to Providence which wouldn't be so bad if he didn't put his foot in his mouth/run away every time he runs into the Falconer's gorgeous, blond, PR person.
Relationships: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 12
Kudos: 340
Collections: Bitty's Valentines Collection





	5 Times Jack Failed at Flirting

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for @b1ttle on Tumblr who wanted meet-cutes and Bitty as the Falconer's PR person. Hope you enjoy. Thank you also to my wonderful betas, @foxeshaveclaws and @faiasakura.

1.

Providence is a nice place. It’s a decent sized city; it would have to be to have their own NHL team, but it has a small town feel. He can go jogging around his neighbourhood instead of in a cold, sterile gym or even worse, on a treadmill going nowhere. But it’s not so small that he’s going to stand out and he’s going to get mobbed wherever he goes. Jack thinks he likes it.

He hasn’t really had too many chances to explore, even though he’s marked a few places on the map that he’d like to check out. He’s always been the kind of guy to be a regular, to show up at the same time and get the same thing, predictable and reliable. It’s already past time for him to establish his Providence routine.

He passes by a sweet little coffee shop as he’s jogging. It’s getting close to the end of his five- mile run and it is in the perfect location for a post-run snack. Making a split-second decision, he diverts his path and heads inside.

He isn’t paying attention, already looking to see what’s on their menu, when he feels scalding hot liquid soak his running shirt.

“Oh my lord, I’m so sorry.” A much shorter man is standing in front of him and waving a handful of napkins in his face. On reflex, Jack grabs for them, stilling both the waving napkins and the hands of the man standing red-faced in front of him. “I hope I didn’t burn ya.”

“Euh, just a little steamed,” Jack says, finally succeeding in liberating one of the napkins from the man’s grasp and soaking up some of the rapidly cooling liquid on his chest. The man stops waving his arms and tries to help with the napkin he’s still holding.

With that handled, he takes a closer look at the person in front of him and he nearly swallows his tongue. The guy is gorgeous, with blond hair and brown eyes so large they wouldn’t look out of place on a cartoon. He’s small but holds himself like someone who is used to complete physical control over his limbs. His chest is also splashed with coffee even though Jack had taken the brunt of it. 

“At least coffee is your colour,” Jack says.

The man stops mopping at Jack’s chest and looks up at him with a quizzical expression and Jack suddenly has the urge to run. “Uh, goodbye?” he says before turning around and practically sprinting from the coffee shop. Guess he can’t ever come back here again.

2.  
Jack’s been busy since moving to Providence. He’s had near-constant practices and other team meetings as he’s getting to know his new teammates and they’re getting ready to start their season. He’s heading out early in the morning and coming home late at night with barely a chance to inhabit his new home beyond the bedroom and the bathroom.

Finally, he gets a day off. He starts it off the same way he has been so far, going for a run and only stopping in to buy coffee once he’s sure he’s not going to run into that blond man again. 

But once he gets home, he’s at a loss. He bought a couch for the living room but he doesn’t have a TV and his books are all in storage until he has the time to go get them and unpack them. It’s a little depressing.

Another hiccup occurs at lunchtime. He decides to splurge and make his favourite chicken tenders. But since he’s mostly been eating out since he moved, he doesn’t even have a baking sheet.

He decides to go and buy at least a few things: a TV, a bookshelf that he can start filling, and the bare minimum for the kitchen.

He’s wandering a department store in the area and comparing two baking sheets, trying to decide if it matters that it’s nonstick, when he hears a familiar voice.

“I wondered if I might run into you again.”

Jack turns and sees the small blond who’s coffee he had spilled. He’s just as cute now and Jack isn’t finding it any easier to look him in the eye. “I was hoping I wouldn’t.”

“Oh,” the blond says, a strangely disappointed look on his face. “Sorry, I’ll leave you to your shopping.”

“No...that isn’t…” Jack protests but he’s not entirely certain what to say and he can feel the red rising in his cheeks.

“I’d recommend the stainless steel pan. It’s higher quality and I know they say that nonstick is safe but I’ve also read it leaves bits of Teflon in your food. If you really want easy cleanup, just use parchment paper or a silicone baking mat,” the blond says, pointing to one of the baking sheets that Jack is still holding.

“Euh, thank you?” Jack says, but the blond man is already gone.

3\. 

“Jack, can I meet with you for a moment in my office?” Georgia asks him after practice. “It’s nothing bad,” she reassures him when she sees the look of apprehension on his face.

“Sure,” Jack says. “Should I shower first or do you want me right away?”

“By all means, shower first,” Georgia smiles at him and leaves him there. Even with her reassurance, Jack feels a pit open up in his stomach, just like the one he’d had every time in childhood when he had to talk to any sort of authority figure. He knows they’re not going to fire him. They have a contract. But he’s a little afraid anyway.

A familiar blond man turns to face him when Jack enters the room.

“Jack, I want you to meet Eric Bittle,” Georgia says. “He’s in charge of PR for the Falconers. He’s here to talk about your Twitter account.”

Jack frowns. “I need a Twitter account?”

Bittle turns and smiles at him. It looks a little forced and Jack really wants to run away from the conversation he knows he needs to have.

“Eric will explain all about it. You have a choice how involved you want to be but you will have to have at least one public social media account,” Georgia says.

“Oh,” Jack says. “Um…”

“It shouldn’t take too long,” Bittle says. “We don’t need to do it right now but we should set up a meeting.”

“Coffee,” Jack blurts out.

Bittle turns red. “Do you think that’s safe?” he asks.

“No,” Jack says. “I know it’s not.”

Georgia looks between them, a slight puzzled look on her face. “Are you going to need my office or are you going to meet elsewhere?”

Bittle takes a card out of his wallet and hands it to Jack. “Here, you think about it and when you’re ready, you can send me an email and we’ll set a time to meet.”

Jack nods. Georgia and Eric are both staring at him. He doesn’t know what they expect from him so he awkwardly turns and leaves.

4.

Jack hasn’t emailed Bittle yet. He feels bad because he knows he is making Bittle’s job harder but every time he picks up his phone or his laptop, a cold sweat covers his body and he has to get out. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s been so out of sorts in someone’s presence. He thinks maybe it’s because Bittle is so completely his type and he hasn’t even entertained the thought of dating another man since Kent. It shouldn’t be a big deal but it is.

It’s getting late and his stomach is growling. He hadn’t eaten anything after practice and he is paying for it now. He doesn’t feel like cooking or ordering takeout. Maybe it’s a little weird, going out to eat alone, but the alternative would be to ask one of his new teammates and the anxiety at the thought of reaching out makes him more than a little nauseated. Eating alone, it is.

He sits down and looks through the menu. There are a lot of choices and most of them sound awful. He regrets choosing this restaurant and he’s thinking about walking out. He’s only ordered a water so far.

He can hear someone talking loudly from the next booth over. “Oh yeah, sounds totally like a serious job and not an excuse to ogle hockey players in the buff. I know your type.”

“Excuse me?” Jack recognizes Bittle’s Southern accent and suddenly, he is hyper-focused on the conversation happening behind him.

“Seriously, whoever hooked you up for that sweet gig, tell him I want to run PR for some of the local figure skaters. That’s what gets my motor running.” The guy’s voice is loud and slurring and Jack can see looks of disgust from the other tables in the restaurant.

Bittle’s voice is frosty and nearly unrecognizable. “I don’t think I like what you’re insinuatin’.”

“Aw, come on, it’s a compliment. I way prefer that tight ass to some big muscle-bound goon,” the man laughs loudly. Jack’s fist clenches.

“I think this date is over,” Bittle says.

“Don’t be like that. Let’s cut the bullshit. I know you’re gagging to go back to my place so I can pound that tight ass.” 

Jack can see Bittle standing to leave and he is about to relax when the man grabs Bittle’s wrist and pulls him in close to his side. Jack hardly knows he is moving before he is looming over the man and prying his hand off Bittle’s wrist.

“Who the fuck are you?” The man blinks up at him, eyes glassy and unfocused.

“Hi, I’m a big muscle-bound goon. I think your date said no,” Jack growls.

“This is none of your fucking business. Leave us alone,” the man slurs. He tries to stand up but thinks twice about it when Jack stares him down.

“Excuse me, can I get this man’s check?” Jack hails the nearest waitress. She scurries away to get it.

The man tosses down some cash to cover the check.

“Tip too,” Jack says, counting the bills at a glance. The man curses but throws down another $20.

“Did he drive?” Jack asks Bittle.

Bittle nods. “He’s my ride.” He winces.

Jack holds out his hand. “Keys.”

The man’s face grows apoplectic with rage. He staggers out of the chair and tries to take a swing at Jack. Jack easily dodges it and dumps him back in his chair. This time the man meekly holds out his car keys.

Jack hands them to the waitress. “Call a cab for this man. I’ll cover it. He can pick his keys up here tomorrow when he’s sobered up.”

The waitress nods and stuffs the man’s keys into the pocket of her apron.

Jack drops another couple of bills on his table and guides a now trembling Bittle out of the restaurant.

“Lord, that was dramatic,” Bittle says. 

Now that the adrenaline has faded, Jack is suddenly tongue-tied again. “Euh, Bittle...Do you like food?” he asks.

“Um...yes?” Bittle says, looking up at him in confusion.

“I mean I can just drop you at home if you want to go but I didn’t get a chance to eat and I noticed you hardly touched your dinner and then I don’t have to eat alone and the evening isn’t wasted,” Jack says in a rush.

Bittle’s face goes from confusion to a sunny smile. “Jack, honey, that sounds absolutely perfect. But if we’re gonna be friends now, you’re gonna have to start calling me Bitty.”

5.

Things are easier now. He and Bitty meet up once or twice a week, sometimes to discuss new posts for his rapidly growing Instagram account, but mostly just to have coffee or dinner. Jack’s never been much of a texter, but now, his phone is blowing up all day, every day. He can’t help smiling every time he sees Bitty’s name pop up in his notifications.

Something is happening to him. He thinks he’s been in love before. Kent was all fire and passion and danger. Camilla was all safety and comfort and security and routine and, if he’s honest, a tiny bit of boredom. 

But this is something else. 

There is passion, but he doesn’t want the side of secrecy that comes along with it. He feels like he and Bitty have known each other all their lives, but he can’t think of anything he wants more than a lifetime to discover more about him.

The team teases him mercilessly. Jack denies it but a little pit of sadness grows inside him as he tells them that he’s texting Bitty and of course he’s just a friend.

They go out for dinner and something feels different. Bitty smiles up at him. He touches his arm when no one is looking. He touches his foot to Jack’s under the table and Jack lets him, maybe even presses right back.

Bitty blushes and Jack asks the waiter for a glass of wed rine. Bitty laughs and Jack wants to make him laugh forever.

“Do you want to come up?” Bitty asks when Jack drops him off.

Jack nods. Bitty’s apartment is as warm and cheery as the man himself. Jack likes it. He immediately feels more at home here than he has almost anywhere since he first moved to Providence, excluding only the feeling he gets in full gear at centre ice.

Bitty brings him a cup of tea and a slice of pie, maple apple and the best thing Jack has ever had in his mouth.

Bitty sits next to him on the couch and for once he’s quiet, content to sit next to Jack and enjoy his company. 

“Bits,” Jack says. “I…”

Bitty leans in a little closer and Jack wants; it’s terrifying just how much he wants. 

“I…have to go,” Jack says. “Thanks for the pie. It was delicious.”

He’s outside the door by the time logic kicks back in and it’s too late to go back inside.

+1

Bitty looks sad. For the first time in several weeks, Bitty wasn’t the one to text first. Jack knows he did something wrong and he wants to fix it. But a small part of him also wonders if maybe this isn’t for the best. Bitty makes things complicated. He can’t come out anytime soon and Bitty deserves better than that. Plus, there is the whole ethical dilemma of him dating a member of the team. What if Georgia fired Bitty for this? He couldn’t have that on his conscience.

It might be too late anyway. Bitty doesn’t look at him when he enters the locker room. He’s there talking to Tater and he keeps his focus steadily on the big Russian’s face. He leaves without a look at Jack.

“Your boy mad at you?” Tater asks.

Jack’s heart skips a beat. “What are you talking about?”

“Little B. He not flirt with you or make googly eyes. No maple apple pie in nook this week,” Tater says, clapping Jack’s shoulder with one big hand. “Is lover’s quarrel, right? You say sorry. We get pie.”

“You think Bittle and I are…” Jack’s voice trails off.

“Boyfriends, right?” Tater asked.

Jack is practically ready to pass out. Tater talks so loudly and surely the rest of the team can hear this. He looks around but no one seems to care.

“I thought we weren’t getting involved,” Marty said with a raised eyebrow.

“That was when they happy and flirting. Not when Little B look like he might cry,” Tater says.

“Jack, we haven’t said anything because it’s not our business. But we’re glad you and Bitty found each other,” Marty says. “If you need to straighten something out, better to do it now than to take it on the ice.”

Jack nods and runs out of the locker room to find Bitty. He catches Bitty in the entrance way, heading to his car in the parking lot. He’s breathing hard and he realizes, staring at Bitty, that he has no idea what to say.

“Jack, are you alright? Did you need something?” Bitty asks, holding his clipboard like a shield in front of him.

“My team just informed me we’ve been dating for weeks?” It comes out like a question and a shutter falls over Bitty’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault. You were so nice and we spent so much time together. I really thought...but it’s okay. Message received, loud and clear. I won’t get you in trouble with your team. I should have known better than to fall in love with a straight boy,” Bitty says, misery on his face and in his voice.

“I’m not,” Jack says.

“Not what?” Bitty asks.

“I’m not straight. And I’m not in trouble. And I really wasn’t sending you a message, at least not that message,” Jack says. He takes a step closer to Bitty and Bitty drops his arms.

“What message were you sending?” Bitty whispers as Jack takes another step.

“I…” Jack still can’t get the words out. Bitty is waiting, hope in his eyes, but that hope is fading with every second that Jack can’t find the words. He forgets about words entirely, leans down and kisses Bitty.

When he pulls back, there are tears standing in Bitty’s eyes. “Oh,” he says. “Good.”

Jack just has to kiss him again.


End file.
